


Surgito

by ArcherDoes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Curse Breaking, F/F, F/M, M/M, More characters to be added, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:01:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28053585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArcherDoes/pseuds/ArcherDoes
Summary: Sometimes the littlest of changes causes a whole world of good.Harry Potter, while not as normal as his relatives, thought he was an ordinary boy. He was proven wrong just before he turned nine when he met Lynn.Harry Potter, while adventurous, thought he would live a quiet life. He was proven wrong just after he turned seventeen when he met Tom Riddle
Kudos: 1





	Surgito

**Author's Note:**

> Yo, this is my first work! I'm a little unsure of how the format will transfer from my document to the actual posted story, so I apologise for any formatting issues. I am writing this story to practise my writing, and so while I will/would undoubtedly appreciate any responses to this, please know that they probably won't affect the story, unless they are constructive criticism about my actual writing style or an actual mistake I make.  
> I want to preface this by stating immediately that this story will have slash ships, it will be very deviated from canon, and has quite the splicing of timelines together. If this bugs you, then maybe stop reading now.

Harry Potter, of Number 4, Privet Drive, had always known he wasn't 'perfectly normal, thank you very much'. From the constant usage of the word 'Freak' by his relatives, to his part in his teacher's new hairdo, the thought of normalcy was rarely on young Harry's mind. However, not even he expected the truth behind his uniqueness.

The fateful day on which Harry learned said truth started out like any other. It had been almost eight years since the Dursley family had woken to a new member of their household, almost six years since the cupboard under the stairs had been unofficially renamed 'Harry's', and almost two years since the wake-up call from hell began.

"Up! Get up! Now!"

Harry woke with a jump, startling the spider that had been resting on his shoulder. His aunt's knuckles rapped hard on the cupboard door again.

"Up!" she screeched, her heels clicking on the ground as she moved towards the kitchen door. "Get a move on!"

Harry got slowly out of bed, grasping around him for his glasses. With them firmly planted on his nose, he reached for his clothes, beginning to get dressed as he heard, and felt, the thundering of his cousin, Dudley, down the stairs. Normally, Dudley would be asleep for at least another hour after Harry awoke but today was a special exception.

"Are you up?" came the piercing voice of his aunt, followed closely by a rapid knocking on the cupboard's door. "The bacon has been put on the pan, and you better not dare let it burn. My Diddy's birthday will be perfect!"

"Yes Aunt Petunia."

Harry pulled on his socks and moved out into the hall, quietly making his way into the kitchen. He checked the bacon before turning and beginning to fry some eggs as well. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Dudley ripping his way through this year's haul of presents. The wrapping paper pile was quickly beginning to rival the whale of a boy in size, Harry smiled to himself.

"Boy, you need a haircut!" barked his Uncle Vernon from behind his newspaper, wiping the small smile off Harry's face.

A weekly occurrence, the constant haircuts had never done anything to prevent the wild ways of Harry's hair. Harry placed the plates of bacon and eggs, one with considerably less than the others, and sat down as Dudley unwrapped his last gift.

"Thirty-three," Aunt Petunia beamed as she moved wrapping paper to sit down, "that's two more than last year, diddums!"

Dudley didn't seem particularly impressed by this but was too busy wolfing down his breakfast to make a fuss. Seeing this, Aunt Petunia attempted to excite him,

"And tomorrow, we'll be going to that new water park in London, with the Polkisses!"

This caught Dudley's attention,

"Tomorrow? What do you mean tomorrow? I want to go today!"

Sensing an impending explosion, Harry tried to finish his meagre helping as quickly as he could. Fortunately, Aunt Petunia seemed to have this inkling too, as she immediately rushed to prevent it.

"Your father has a very important meeting today, so we decided to go tomorrow, remember?" Noticing how little this helped, she rushed on, "And how about today, I'll take you and your friend Piers to the playground and then out for ice cream. How does that sound?"

It was clear this compromise wasn't good enough for Dudley, but he agreed sullenly before finishing his breakfast.

"An enterprising plan, Pet! I'll phone Jim now." Uncle Vernon declared as he hefted himself up from the table.

Dudley, having finished his mountain of a plate, stood to make his way upstairs. He stopped, however, when he noticed Harry still sitting at the table. His face darkened.

"What about him?" he asked as he pointed an accusatory finger at Harry.

Aunt Petunia started, as if only remembering her nephew existed. She opened her mouth to placate Dudley before being interrupted by her husband.

"Don't you worry, tyke! The boy'll be staying with Mrs Figg." declared Uncle Vernon as he waddled back into the room, "And Jim said he'd drop young Piers here in about an hour."

Dudley brightened considerably at this and raced as fast as his weight would let him up the stairs. Harry, however, was not feeling so joyous. Just what he wanted, hours of Mrs Figg recanting her previous cats' lives. And it always took days to lose the lingering scent of cabbage from her house. He sighed and began clearing the table of plates. It was better than where he'd be tomorrow, he supposed, Aunt Petunia's friend, Yvonne, scared Harry terribly.

"Vernon, he can't! Mrs Figg is attending some cat event in Wales, remember? I had to call Yvonne to take him tomorrow." Aunt Petunia said, eyeing Harry warily.

"Well, then Yvonne can take him today," Uncle Vernon decided, with a self-satisfied smirk, "and keep him until tomorrow night."

"No, it was a struggle to get her to agree to one day! She'll pitch a fit if I try to get another day out of her." Aunt Petunia argued, glaring at Harry. "I'll just have to take him and keep him out of Dudley's way."

She turned to Harry, who was in the process of drying the dishes, with a sour look on her face. Harry thought she was trying for intimidating but had landed on unpleasant instead. She grabbed him by the ear.

"Now you listen to me," she began, tugging painfully on his ear as she did, "I will tolerate no funny business. You are going to keep away from the boys and keep your mouth shut."

She pointed her finger at him to emphasise her point, although Harry had heard most of this warning before.

"And if there is even a whiff of your freakishness, you'll go without food for two weeks!"

And with that final declaration, she thrust him into his cupboard. His momentum caused him to bang painfully into the furthest wall, but Harry didn't care. He would be outside today, and although he wouldn't be free, he would certainly be closer than normal. As long as no strange things happened. His 'freakishness' as his aunt had said. No matter how many times he had tried to argue against it, his aunt and uncle seemed convinced that these weird happenings were all Harry's fault. And he could see why, weird stuff just seemed to, well, happen when he was about. Like his hair never staying cut or that ugly bobble-jumper that just refused to fit. But no, Harry was determined that nothing of the sort would happen today, nothing was going to ruin this rare reprieve from his chores and his cupboard.

Oh, how very wrong little Harry could be.

(...)

In his hope of no incidents, Harry had conveniently forgot Dudley's favourite activity after eating and whining: Harry Hunting. He supposed he could be forgiven for this oversight due to the excitement of near freedom. Even when sitting there, squashed between his cousin and the car window, Harry still hadn't remembered this 'game'. You see, Harry Hunting involved the only physical activity Dudley would regularly partake in. Privately, Harry mused that chasing him with his gang was probably the only reason Dudley was smaller than Uncle Vernon.

This activity, however, was quick to come back to Harry when, upon entering the playground, his Aunt Petunia had left the three boys alone. The shared glance between Piers and Dudley was just enough warning for Harry to begin fleeing. He knew that the slight hovering of his aunt would not prevent the vicious beating he would get if caught. She'd probably think it was justice for 'ruining' her precious Dinky Diddums birthday.

In his musings, Harry hadn't been paying attention to where he was running, and so, found himself approaching the back wall of the public toilets. He felt fear as he realised that turning left or right would result in him being grabbed by the huffing masses behind him. He spotted two large bins and sped up. Maybe he could hide in there, or at least behind them? It was worth a shot in his eyes. And with that thought in mind, Harry closed his eyes, and jumped.

' _Please work, please let me get away_ '

He heard what sounded like a car backfiring and opened his eyes in surprise. He stumbled and fell to the ground, taking in his surroundings as he did.

"What the hell?"

People rushed past, pushing, and shoving each other, and sound of chatter was almost unbearable. Harry had no clue where he was, but one thing was for sure, he had done something strange again.

(...)

Lynn Rashid Nasser was many things – calm under pressure, horrible at chess, a little bit of a thrill seeker – but she was not easily impressed or surprised. Probably from growing up as a child of a magizoologist and a potioneer, or maybe from her career as a freelance curse-breaker, Lynn found that most of life's events barely made her raise an eyebrow. Which is why if any of her friends or family, or even her regular employers, had seen her then, they would've been almost worried. But not even Lynn was immune to the shock of the power in front of her. When she had first heard the tell-tale bang of apparition, she had been prepared to see some pureblood with little regard for the muggles around them. Despite it being an airport, obviously full of muggles, that common sense rarely appeared in a pureblood family, especially not English ones. She had turned in her seat, fully prepared to berate whichever idiot was jeopardising the Statue of Secrecy – _please don't be a Crabbe, they probably wouldn't understand a sentence without a reference to food_ – but what she had instead been greeted with was, in her mind, worth the momentary loss of dignity.

There in front of her, rather than the proud and/or obtuse pureblood lord she was expecting, was a child on his knees. He peered around in amazement – clearly, he did not know what he had done, muggleborn perhaps? - before his eyes landed on Lynn. Seeing her gaze, his entire demeanour seemed to change to fear and worry. Lynn had no doubt that he would've run if he had any idea where he was. She checked her watch, her plane would be boarding soon, but that was something she could reschedule. This child, however, was something that shouldn't be overlooked. What power must he possess to be able to unintentionally apparate, with no sign of splinching?

_'A bit young for an apprenticeship I suppose but with power like that, he would have no trouble.'_

She schooled her face into a blank slate as she rose and approached the boy. He seemed to wilt at her height, so she paused. Perhaps she should attempt this in a more delicate manner? And so, with grace of course, she crouched down until she was eye level with the child. His eyes widened, and he tried to take steps backward, only for his back to hit the waiting chairs behind him.

"Hey, hey. Relax, I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to talk." Lynn attempted to reason with the child, but she couldn't tell if it was working. "My name is Lynn. What's yours?"

She held out her hand, and after a weary glance at her face, the boy shook it.

"Harry. Harry Potter."

Her eyes widened. This was the famous 'boy-who-lived'? She gave him a once over, cataloguing the fit of his clothes, the numerous layers of Sellotape on his glasses and the stick thin stature of him. Where had he grown up, to come out looking like this? Maybe convincing him to become her apprentice would be easier than she thought.

"Well, Mr. Potter, that was some display of accidental magic."

Lynn watched his eyes widen in confusion and felt a sinking feeling in her gut.

"Magic? What do you mean _magic_?" Harry seemed in disbelief, and Lynn stared in confusion.

The 'boy-who-lived' had no idea what he was? How could this have happened? Lynn wondered who could have been raising the boy, any wizarding family would've drilled magic and its graces into any child's head, especially this one.

"You mean you don't know? No one told you?" Lynn hoped that her questions came across as calm, but she suspected her incredulity was apparent.

"Told me what, miss?" The confusion and hesitancy on Harry's face was clear to anyone with half a brain.

"There's no easy way to say this," Lynn hesitated, before deciding to dive straight in, "You're a wizard, Harry."


End file.
